


World on Fire

by Kiertorata



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: femslashbb, Dumbledore's Army, F/F, Half-Blood Prince AU, Humor, Inter-House Friendships, Plotty, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 16:31:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8720821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiertorata/pseuds/Kiertorata
Summary: Pansy needs help in order to escape her future as a Death Eater. Ginny is frustrated with her life and wants to make a difference. Written for Femslash Big Bang 2016.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beautiful beta pineapplebooks! And thank you to the organizers of Femslash Big Bang for pushing me to finally get this story started. It's a long way from being finished, but I'm so glad that this idea that I’ve had for years is finally writing itself. Thank you for reading!

It was a crisp October morning, a few weeks into term. Pansy Parkinson munched on breakfast, half-heartedly listening to Daphne complain about the Troll she had gotten in Transfiguration.

An elegant barred owl landed in front of her. Instead of the fat package of sweets she usually received, the owl slipped a thin white envelope into her hand. With a glance at the sealing wax, she knew it had to be from her father. Not something to read in front of others, then.

Pansy took a swig of her coffee to wash down the greasy taste of the sausage she had been eating. She glanced around. Her group of fellow 6th year Slytherins was gossiping intensely, and she doubted they would have noticed had she decided to get up and dance on the table. She squinted her eyes and scanned the Great Hall in suspicion. No one seemed to be paying any attention to her, and she was about to rip the letter open when her eyes scanned over the Gryffindor table just in time to see a head of flaming red hair look up at her.

_Ginny Weasley._

Their eyes met for a second. Weasley’s eyes narrowed and Pansy smirked at her. Weasley turned to look away with such violence that she almost knocked over a jug of pumpkin juice. It was so funny that for a moment Pansy forgot all about the awaiting letter. She was about to attack her sausage again when her eyes fell upon it. Glancing paranoidly around her once more, she finally opened the letter.

_Dear Pansy,_

_How are you, darling? I hope your term has started well. Do you recall the discussion we had in August about your future and the future of our family? I have discussed the matter with Mr. Nott since then, and have gained support from him. I have reason to believe that the plans we made will come to fruition, and I encourage you to begin preparing for a certain rite of passage that will be taking place no later than next summer. I shall write to you should any developments occur. Needless to say, this is a sensitive matter and I advise you not to discuss it with your friends._

_Good luck in your studies._

_Yours,  
Father_

Even though she had not been expecting good news, the letter still left her feeling cold. The clever wording made it possible for an unsuspecting reader to think that the subject was marriage between her and Theo, but Pansy knew better.

The Parkinsons, while affiliated with supporters of the Dark Lord, were technically neutral in the war. Ever since the scene at the Ministry at the end of last spring, however, her father had been intent on changing that. Things were getting too restless, and Pansy’s parents realized that it was probably safer to take a side. Naturally, they wanted to pick the side more likely to win.

Their plan was to introduce their daughter to the Death Eater circles. Pansy would be marked and she would make herself useful to the Dark Lord. She was their golden ticket to an esteemed position in the post-war world, if the war indeed ended in Voldemort’s victory. If it didn’t, Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson could crawl back to the light side at the mild expense of their daughter.

That was not, of course, how they put it to her. Two months ago, before the start of term, her father had sat her down to discuss all the advantages of such an alliance. With a blatantly false air of confidence, he had talked about their standing in the new world, and how Pansy’s rank in society would be higher than ever.

“You’ll be the most sought after young pureblood woman for marriage,” he had concluded after a long-winded spiel, while Pansy’s mother had just nodded dumbly to everything and added: “We only want what’s best for you, dear.” 

Any mention of the dangers of becoming a Death Eater had been conveniently left out.

Pansy had no intention of sucking up to a megalomaniac who occasionally took pleasure in torturing his minions, and she had made that much clear to her parents. Her objection had resulted in a rather awkward time in the Parkinson residence, as her father had refused to talk to her, and her mother had only done so warily when her father was not present.

The letter made it seem like none of this had happened – that Pansy was the ever obedient pureblood daughter. Pansy felt like ripping the letter to pieces. Instead, she did her best to calm the shaking of her hands and poured herself another cup of coffee.

Pansy didn’t particularly care which side won, but she knew she had to be on it. At the moment neutrality was her best bet. It was her family’s best bet, if her father could just listen to sense. But Pansy knew that her father was a coward, and the letter was proof of it.

Pansy needed to start thinking for herself. She needed a plan.

_I need allies_ , she thought as she crumpled the letter into her bag. She would dispose of it later. Right now she had to get to her lessons and get through the day and try to put her Slytherin cunning to use.

*

Ginny Weasley was rather irritated. She had spent all night working on an essay for Defence, and had therefore been tired and grumpy when she entered the Great Hall. Then, when she had looked up sleepily from her half-eaten toast, she had gazed straight into the dark eyes of Pansy Parkinson. All in all, it hadn’t been such a great morning.

Her day didn’t get any better. Snape yelled at her in class, she spilled some ink on her robes and made it to dinner so late that there was hardly any pudding left.

“Hey, honey,” Dean said, catching up with her as she was walking to the common room after the long, tiring day. “What’s up?”

He pecked her on the cheek and held out his arm as an offer to carry her bag. Ginny pulled the bag closer to her and huffed.

“Ginny...” Dean said.

“Sorry Dean, I’ve had kind of a shitty day.”

“Who do you want me to kill? Snape? All of the Slytherins?”

Ginny’s lips quirked a bit.

“Well, you can start with Snape. Don’t let him off easy. Make sure to punish him accordingly for all the suffering he has caused.”

“I’ll make him wash his hair,” Dean said, grinning.

“Excellent,” Ginny said. Her mood was quickly improving. Her hold on her bag loosened a little, and she swung it as she walked.

They came to the portrait of the Fat Lady and Dean gave the password. He made an elegant gesture with his hands.

“You first, princess.”

“I’m not a princess,” Ginny said. She stuck her tongue out at Dean and climbed into the portrait hole before him nonetheless.

*

It was only later that evening in the privacy of her four-poster bed that Pansy had the chance to consider her options.

She was painfully aware that her connections were for the most part Death Eaters, future Death Eaters, or children of Death Eaters. Who could she trust?

Vincent and Greg would follow in their fathers’ footsteps, that much was clear. And Millicent had certainly expressed willingness to align herself with the Dark Lord. She was openly gleeful every time there was anything about him in the papers. Theo’s family was neutral like hers, but his father was already taking the steps to join the Dark Side. Theo, as smart and calculating as he was, would succumb to his father’s will if he believed it to be in his best interest.

Daphne didn’t have any ambitions to become a Death Eater, but as her current thoughts were mainly focused on devising a plan to snatch Michael Corner from Cho Chang, Pansy didn’t think talking to her would be very useful. And Tracey was almost as dense as Vince and Greg. Pansy had once found her making a face mask out of owl droppings, because she had read that owl dung was rich in nutrients. The smell in their dormitory had lasted for days.

Blaise, dear idiot Blaise, was too laid back to make a good ally. He didn’t bother spending too much thought on the dangers of the war. He didn’t have to. Pansy knew that if the political atmosphere in Britain became too inflamed, Blaise and his mother would move to Italy to live with relatives.

And as good of a friend as Blaise was, his attitude towards life was too carefree for him to truly appreciate her problem. She couldn’t imagine Blaise spending more than five minutes concerned about anything, with the possible exception of his hair.

Why were all her friends so daft? Well, perhaps not Draco. But he had been preoccupied with something ever since the start of term.

Draco, who had always boasted about his family’s connections and had hinted at becoming a Death Eater in the future, had gone from cocky and self-assured to quiet and withdrawn. He spent a considerable amount of time away from his friends, and Pansy had a nagging feeling that there was something big going on that he wasn’t telling them.

*

Ginny lay in her bed with the curtains drawn, and stared at the ceiling. Her mind was on Dean. Dean, who went through so much just to please her. Dean with his warm smiles, encouraging words and shy kisses that made Ginny want to wipe her mouth afterwards.

She sighed. Dean was kind, funny, and wanted to be with her. Why wasn’t that enough?

She had tried to explain to him what it was that she wanted to change. She didn’t want sweet and romantic. She wanted fun and exciting. She didn’t want to be fawned over. She had spent too many of her years underestimated by everybody to want to be treated like a helpless princess by her boyfriend. She wanted someone who could accept the dark sides of her, not someone who always saw the good in her. And she didn’t want timid caresses and soft kisses. She wanted hot and irresistible, someone who drove her crazy with desire. Or at least a proper snog now and then. The problem was, in order for things to change, Dean would have to change.

Based on what little she knew about relationships, wanting to change your partner was not a sign of a very healthy one.

_Maybe I just need to put in more effort_ , she thought with a sigh. _Dean isn’t perfect, but no-one is. I’ll never find someone who suits me in every possible way._

_But maybe she could find someone who suited her better_ , a small voice said inside of her. Guiltily Ginny thought about how she had recently found herself checking out other people. She really needed to try to focus on Dean more.

After a moment, her mind wandered off to more pleasant things and her frustration with Dean was forgotten. Out of habit, her hand found its way under her nightgown and into her knickers. While touching herself, her mind was void of Dean, relationship problems or anything else. She focused fully on pleasure.

*

It was long past midnight, but Pansy was still deep in thought. She knew she would have to rely on glamour charms in order to mask the dark circles that were bound to adorn her face in the morning, but that didn’t matter.

Snape’s status was unclear. And Pansy’s actions in the past, especially with the Inquisition Squad from last year, wouldn’t really recommend her to any of the other teachers either.

‘I could always suck up to old Dumblebore,’ she thought, but the idea made her retch. Ever since her first year, when the hard-earned House Cup had been snatched from Slytherin house due to Dumbledore’s favouritism, she had felt a bitter mistrust towards the man. Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t have enough sympathy in his heart to help a Slytherin in her position.

Potter was almost as bad as Dumbledore. Pansy didn’t know anyone who saw things in more black and white than Potter. He seemed to live in an absurd fairy tale where the world was divided into good and bad.

_Then again, with his past, it’s not much of a wonder_ , Pansy thought impassively. _I wouldn’t be sane either if I was an orphan chased by a lunatic killer._

Potter believed anyone in the Slytherin house to be a potential Death Eater. To convince him that Slytherins were people too would require too much from Pansy, including her dignity.

Pansy could hardly think of anything more unpleasant than talking to Granger. And the idea of talking to the Weasel just made her laugh. She could rule out the Golden Trio, then.

The mere idea of approaching them was laughable. She could imagine how successful a conversation between them would be: “Hello Potter and co., despite being pathetic morons who hate my guts, how about we sit down for tea someday? I’d love to become friends if it doesn’t mean that I have to stop thinking of you as the most annoying people on earth.”

_Why is it so difficult to think of anybody I like in this school?_ she thought, exasperated. She fell back into her bed and stared at the ceiling of her bed. She could hear the steady breathing and snoring of her housemates, and wished she could be sleeping too.

She needed allies in other houses, where she wouldn’t risk being exposed to the Slytherins that were loyal to the Dark Lord. Parvati and Padma used to be her friends, but they no longer talked much. She would have to renew the connection. There were some other neutral students Pansy didn’t completely hate. They were worth a shot.

Pansy had no sugar-coated illusions of what it would be like to fight a war. It was something she wasn’t cut out for. Becoming involved with people who were too committed to the light side was risky, because they might start demanding something of her, but students in a neutral position didn’t offer her much of a refuge either. Neutral was good, but what she really needed was friends who were powerful.

She recalled the shared glance with Ginny Weasley from that morning. Ginny Weasley. Definitely on the light side, but not likely to be too involved due to her age. Connected to the right people, Weasley could help her seek asylum if necessary. And the girl had a fierceness to her that Pansy could appreciate.

*

Ginny kept running into Parkinson in the unlikeliest of places.

After her Potions lesson, she would find Pansy casually lounging against one of the dungeon walls for no apparent reason. When she was at Quidditch practice, she’d spot Pansy sitting in the stands laughing with her friends. Of course, they were probably just spying on the Gryffindor team. The Slytherin team wasn’t doing great without Malfoy who, Ginny had to grudgingly admit, was a decent player. She wondered what had driven him to quit.

The weirdest time was when she met Parkinson in the hallway outside of Gryffindor tower.

“Evening, Weasley,” Pansy said and gave her an amused look. She brushed against Ginny as she walked, causing her to collide with Dean who was walking beside her.

“Didn’t know you and Parkinson talked to each other,” Dean said, frowning, once the Slytherin was a safe distance away.

“We don’t!” Ginny said. What the hell was Parkinson doing? As if she could have anything good on her mind lurking around this part of the castle.

Something about it didn’t add up. Parkinson was not only in a different house, but also in the year above her, so chances should have been close to zero that Ginny would see her outside meal times.

Ginny didn’t know why she was giving it so much thought. She had better things to think about. The dinner Professor Slughorn had invited her to was tonight, and she had to mentally prepare herself.

Ginny had always watched Ron, Hermione and Harry sneak off on epic adventures with a bit of envy. Last spring, she had gotten a taste of it herself when they had fought Death Eaters at the Ministry, and she knew what she wanted now. She wanted to be involved. She wanted to be a real asset to the war effort, and she didn’t want to wait until she was old enough to join the Order.

So what if she wasn’t invited to Dumbledore’s office on secret war business like Harry was? So what if Dumbledore’s Army wasn’t happening this year? Ginny could make herself useful in other ways.

She was going to keep an eye on Slytherin students to determine potential future Death Eaters. She would start tonight at Slug Club with Zabini, Bobbin and the creepy Carrow twins.

*

Pansy was very pleased with her progress. Plan Suck Up To Everybody In A Sneaky Way, as she called it, was going well despite the fact that befriending people was not her natural talent.

Padma seemed pleasantly surprised to talk to her after years of very few words spoken between them. Pansy felt rather good about herself when Padma walked with her to Arithmancy the next day.

Pansy found that Stephen Cornfoot was not altogether horrible to talk to. He too, had a thing for expensive robes, and he too didn’t like most people. Susan Bones looked rather terrified when Pansy asked to partner with her in Charms, but she didn't refuse. That was a start.

When she spotted the ex-girlfriend of the Saviour of Wizardkind walking alone to class, she struck up a conversation. Cho Chang looked a little taken aback at first when Pansy complemented her flying, but she seemed friendly enough.

“You could learn how to fly too if you actually practiced,” she said tentatively.

“Nah, I’ve never been very athletic,” Pansy said. “I prefer to watch.”

She spotted Daphne glaring at her from the end of the hallway, and decided that there had been enough conversation with the girlfriend of Michael Corner for the time being. A part of her wanted Daphne to suffer, but she restrained herself, even if Daphne deserved it for being into Ravenclaw hunks with no class.

Although her plan had been to get closer to several students from different houses, Pansy found herself thinking about Ginny Weasley more than perhaps was strictly necessary. She couldn’t think of a way to get close to the girl, however, which resulted in embarrassing and slightly creepy stalking. There just wasn’t a way she could go casually talk to someone from Gryffindor, particularly someone who wasn’t in her year.

Luckily, a chance presented itself a few days later, when Pansy was walking in the dungeons after her last class. Weasley had apparently been to Potions, because she was walking some yards before her. As she turned left into another hallway, Pansy had an idea and saw her chance. She tiptoed behind the corner Weasley had just passed.

“Diffindo,” she whispered, wand pointed at Weasley’s bag.

Ginny let out a gasp as her books tumbled to the stone floor. Then she erupted into loud swearing, which made Pansy almost giggle.

“Shit! Circe’s crotch! Fuck!”

Pansy watched from behind the corner as Ginny fixed her bag with a clumsy mending charm and started gathering her books, quills and other belongings.

One book was further than the others, and when Ginny was about to move towards it, Pansy made her entrance. With an elegant Wingardium Leviosa, she levitated the remaining book into Ginny’s hand.

Weasley looked at her as if she had grown another head. From the look on her face it was clear that she had thought that Pansy was going to make her fetch the book from Myrtle’s bathroom, or worse, the lake.

“You’re welcome,” Pansy said, smirking.

Weasley shoved the book into her bag and narrowed her eyes at Pansy.

“What are you playing at?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” Pansy said lightly. She stared into Weasley’s bright, brown eyes. She was struck by their intensity, and couldn’t help but maintain the eye contact for a second longer than perhaps was natural. Finally, she gave her best, most mysterious smile. 

“Have a good day, Weasley.”

She turned around and walked away before Ginny had time to respond. Pansy congratulated herself on her performance. It had been perfect. A complete success.

She walked to dinner with great satisfaction, trying to ignore how fast the other girl had made her heart beat.


End file.
